Taken By Choice (Taken Trilogy Book 3)

by Jessica Frances

  I watch Stan enter the meals area and move straight to Martha; he appears to be furious. A shiver of fear runs over me. I’ve seen that look on Uncle Sid’s face many times. Thankfully, it’s not being directed at me.

  They talk very briefly and then her face matches his when they leave, unmistakably glancing over at Charlie and me.

  “What do you think that’s about?” Charlie asks curiously, also noticing the stink eye.

  “I don’t know.” I shrug, knowing that whatever it is isn’t going to be good.

  “Did you guys hear the news?” Mac shuffles into the seat opposite Charlie, dropping his tray of food loudly on the table. He’s the only friend we’ve made here, and that’s not for lack of trying. We know escaping this place is going to be impossible without help; however no one appears to be interested in becoming friends with us. They’re all regular soldiers, dedicated to fighting alongside P.A.G.E..

  Mac has been our only success, and even then, I’m pretty sure he is just a friendly guy. Every night I see him sitting with someone different. Most people here don’t talk much, apart from tonight, so Mac stands out. He’s strong. When we did our target practice yesterday, he got every single shot perfect as well. His dark skin makes him stand out in here, but what I find more interesting is how sick the guy seems to be. He spends at least one night a week in medical with severe headaches. I don’t know why, but something just seems off with that.

  “No, what happened?” Charlie questions. We both lean in closer with interest.

  “There was a break in at one of the big facilities; a massive disaster. Word is that it was a terrorist group. They blew the building up, but not before running a virus through a load of government computers. On the news they’re reporting it was a gas leak, but from what I’ve heard it was definitely bombs planted throughout the place.”

  “Where did this happen?”

  “Some place in D.C.. Lots of people died; it’s really sad, man.” Mac stops his burger halfway to his mouth and appears to take in his own words. We all do. Mac might be shocked by what happened on American soil, but I know Charlie is thinking what I am. Rose and Zoe broke into The Core and burned it to the ground. But with bombs? With fatalities?

  “That is sad,” Charlie sympathizes, giving me a nod that we should go.

  I quickly finish my food, putting too much into my mouth, barely able to chew. That’s one good thing I can say about being back here, at least the food is usually good and I never have to go without.

  Charlie leaves his uneaten food as we both get up, moving away from the crowds to find a quiet area to talk.

  “They broke into The Core? What the hell were they thinking?” Charlie angrily hisses at me, his worry easily evident now that we’re away from Mac.

  “Probably figured that they might be able to get us released maybe?”

  “What if they’re hurt? What if they’re dead?” Charlie paces in front of me as the lights begin to dim in the room.

  “Get a hold of yourself; they’re fine. Rose always knows how to get herself out of any situation, and Dean wouldn’t have agreed to it unless the plan was good.”

  “Mac said people died; it could easily be them and—” Charlie is working himself up worse.

  I punch my fist against his shoulder hard, getting his attention. “They’re fine, but if they didn’t do it to get us released, then they probably got our location, right? Rose would have sent the virus through the network, but not before taking a peek at their files.”

  “Shit.” Charlie stops pacing and runs his hands through his hair. “We need to get out of here.”

  I know he’s right. I might not love Zoe in the same way that Charlie does, but her and Rose have become my friends, my family. We can’t let them get hurt.

  When I glance over Charlie’s shoulder, my attention is grabbed by Corby; a soldier here who is by far the scariest person I’ve ever met. That includes my uncle. His eyes are black, his body imposing and strong, and his expression always deadly. He’s ruthless. There isn’t a man or woman here who isn’t at the very least weary of him. He’s some relation to Stan and Martha, though even they appear cautious of him. I always find myself searching for him, simply so I know where to avoid.

  Unfortunately, Mac doesn’t do the same. I wince, watching him getting up and colliding with Corby as he passes his chair. The anger that instantly lights up Corby’s face is the only other emotion that he likes to display.

  “That might be a problem with our one ally about to get his brains smashed.” I nod my head in the direction where Corby already has Mac gripped by the shirt as he shouts into his face.

  “We can’t be here, Will. If Zoe and Rose come for us, then they’ll be caught, too. Stan will be expecting that. We need to leave,” Charlie states and then turns away from me, heading towards the commotion.

  In any normal jail, you’d expect one of the other guards to step in to keep this sort of thing from happening. All the soldiers here appear trained in stepping away when Corby attacks, though; everyone is spooked of him. I’ve only ever seen the trainers come in to restrain him and it always takes a few of them to do so.

  Charlie reaches them just as Corby punches Mac hard in the face. His arm swings back, ready for another knock when Charlie grabs his arm, trying to pull it back. Instead, he just attracts Corby’s wrath. I make it over to them just as Corby swings his other arm, knocking Charlie hard in the stomach.

  Charlie stumbles from the impact as I step in the way before Corby can strike again, which he does. As his fist connects with my face, I think my nose breaks because blood gushes out and pain radiates through to my brain. I’m surprised by how strong the hit was, yet I’m not surprised enough to not react. I retaliate, putting all my strength behind my punch into his side, but he barely appears to notice. He merely takes another quick swing at me, and I catch his fist, trying to fight it coming at me, but it proves to be harder than I’ve imagined. Corby is insanely strong, which, is saying something coming from me.

  Charlie gets to his feet, recovered from his punch, charges at Corby and his arms wrap around his middle as he tries to knock him to the ground. He doesn’t succeed, though. Corby barely moves at all. Instead, he swings his leg out unexpectedly and knocks Charlie to the ground, as well as Mac who had come up behind him to help.

  I’m distracted by this, and as a result, Corby gets his punch off after all. I think he breaks a rib with that one. I fall to my side, finding it hard to breathe while my vision wavers for a minute before Charlie is helping me to my feet.

  “You okay?” he asks at the same time I notice Corby is being dragged away by Stan, who is fuming at him, and two other trainers.

  I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

  “Thanks for that, I appreciate it.” Mac nods at both Charlie and me. “That guy is insane, I owe you guys one.”

  “Yeah, you do,” Charlie agrees. “I’m gonna take Will to medical and get him checked out.” Without another word to Mac, Charlie quickly leads me away.

  “I’m okay,” I try to resist his leading me, but he forcefully pulls on my arm, jarring my ribs in the process.

  “Come on; you’re bleeding everywhere,” he insists. I finally just move with him.

  When we’re away from everyone, he lowers his voice so only I can hear him. “We need to make more friends in this place, and Mac isn’t going to be able to help us on his own. Tomorrow at training start talking to anyone. Make shit up if you need to. Just get people on our side. We need their trust if anyone is going to help us.”

  I nod, not really sure if that is ever going to work. Sure, we might be able to make friends, but as soon as they realize we need help escaping this place, that friendship will be quick to leave. Everyone here believes they’re protecting their country and they all think we need to be here. Escaping isn’t something that is allowed, and therefore, not something people are likely to want to help us with. Even Mac, who is our friend, won’t want to help with that.

  C
harlie is grasping at straws, but since I don’t have a better idea, I don’t argue. If we’re right, then Rose and Zoe are coming for us, and once they’re here, there won’t be any getting out. We can’t let that happen, we can’t let them get caught.

  BLAKE DWELLS

  Chapter 4 – The Dirty Cops

  Minnesota

  February 20th

  I take the car we stashed away and speed through the empty streets, moving as fast as humanly possible to get to the police station, which isn’t that far from where Parker and Nichols are being held, but I have a feeling of dread that it won’t matter. Zoe thinks Dean is still alive and I made a promise that I would try to get to him. I haven’t known her long, but maybe after what we went through at The Core… Well, it’s something that no one else will understand. I don’t want to let her down.

  She thinks Dean is alive, and I’m prepared to do whatever it takes to make sure that’s true. Dean is a decent guy. I could tell he wasn’t comfortable with what we had to do back at The Core. I sure as hell wasn’t comfortable with it, but Zoe mentioned that he was a cop. I heard his thoughts, heard how much he hated breaking the law. I also heard his love for Rose, and I heard those same thoughts mirrored in her mind. It made me ache to see Sophie. I’m desperate to call her, to hear her voice. I would have already broken down and done it if it wouldn’t have put her at risk.

  Destroying The Core was meant to solve everything. It was meant to take me away from this nightmare and back to my old life. Instead, I’ve broken into my second government facility, and I’m on my way to try to save Dean from dirty cops. I hate it, yet there is something deep down inside me that kind of loves it. Not the being away from my family, or being away from Sophie, but heading into this situation, gun strapped to my side and my foot flat on the gas petal. The anticipation is thumping inside me while what happened at The Core still makes me feel sick.

  I think part of why I feel sick is because I enjoyed the adrenaline rush. I enjoyed having to think fast and take risks. I almost found it fun until that guard pulled a gun on Zoe; until I had to murder someone. Then the thrill was further numbed after that news report where we found out how many we killed. That was awful.

  However, here I am, heading into a bad situation again. Part of me, deep down, is reveling in the anticipation. The unknown is coming up and maybe I can be a hero. Maybe I can save someone’s life. Perhaps this life is more suited to me than I ever realized. If I hadn’t been taken from home, lied to and forced to believe my family and Sophie were dead, maybe I would have found out that this is something I could have enjoyed. Serving my country might actually be a calling, just not under P.A.G.E..

  I shift into a different mode, one that didn’t exist before I was shot and taken away from my family. As I see the police station up ahead, I slow down. My attention doesn’t stray, my mind clears of my cluttered thoughts and I map out a plan in my head.

  If I go in heavy, we might both end up dead. If I go in too slow, then I might be too late. My best option is to infiltrate without them ever realizing I’m there; get Dean first and perhaps no one has to die.

  I leave the car on the side of the road, letting the darkness hide it for me, then approach the police station that is completely silent with only three cars out front. Two are police vehicles and one is a beaten up, faded red, pickup truck.

  I stay low to the ground, moving quickly to the side wall without making noise. When I listen out with my mind, trying to catch whatever is being said, my ears hear something first.

  “Make sure you get him home and don’t let me see him again, Jim.” The voice is gruff sounding with a terseness to the words.

  “Thanks, Rob. I owe you one.” This voice sounds a mixture of nervous and angry.

  “Bottle of Bourbon ought to clear it up.”

  “Consider it done. What’s the other guy in for? He looks messed up.”

  At the slight pause from this question, the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I’m sure if I could see these men talking, I’d also see the tension in the air between them.

  “Got in a bar fight; we’re letting him sleep it off,” the man says curtly; the edge to his voice is one that says not to ask any further questions.

  I swallow back my unease and continue moving along, passing low to avoid the open window where the voices are leaking out from.

  “Right. Well, thanks again, Rob. Come on, you idiot. I am going to kick your ass so…” The man’s voice trails off and I turn back, peeking into the window to see what the situation is. There is an older man dragging along a clearly very drunk teenager. He’s tripping over his own feet and it isn’t long before I hear vomiting coming from outside accompanied by swearing.

  “We need to get rid of him. We don’t want to cause a panic, and the less anyone knows of him the better,” an officer appearing in his late fifties says. He’s overweight and greying. I recognize the voice as being the guy called Rob. He holds his hand over his gun, ready for action. The other man he is speaking to is younger, perhaps only in his thirties. They’re eyeing a jail cell, but from this angle, I can’t see anyone in it.

  ‘Come on, you can do this. You’ve done this before and this is no different. Stan wouldn’t ask this if the guy wasn’t causing problems, and it’ll be good to have him owe me a favor.’

  “We’ll do it now. Help me get him into my car, and I’ll take him to hand off to the CIA. While I’m gone, clean down the cell and erase the security footage; got it?” Rob grunts at the other officer.

  “Yes, sir.” ‘Is this guy really a terrorist? He said he was a cop, had a genuine badge and yeah, it could have been stolen, but the Captain didn’t even make a phone call to L.A.P.D., just to his CIA buddy. That’s a weird thing to do. Just as weird as a terrorist simply walking into the station, telling us a story so unbelievable that it makes no sense that he’d waste his time on the lie. What does this lie get him? Why would he bother walking into this station? Something is not right…’

  “Now, Hart.” Rob snaps when Hart doesn’t move. His voice jolts him into action and he opens the cell. I hold my breath as he drags someone out. Then, as Hart steps backwards, I finally see Dean’s unconscious body being dragged along the ground. I see bruising and dried blood on the side of his face, disappearing into his hairline. No doubt he got hit over the head and knocked out.

  When Hart takes him out the same entrance the man and the teenager exited through earlier, I move around the side of the building to see what is happening. Should I try and attack now? Or wait until he’s on the road?

  Assessing the situation, I go over what I know. Hart doesn’t appear like he’s a dirty cop, if anything he’s just following orders and he’s been told Dean is a terrorist. He doesn’t deserve to die for that. Besides, I’ll have better odds if Dean is only being held by one person. I should follow him and take action then.

  I quickly head back to my car and, while leaving my headlights off, I crawl slowly to the station, not wanting the sound of my engine to give myself away. I idle just out of sight until I see Rob pulling out onto the road in one of the police cruisers then I follow him.

  Rob drives his police cruiser, sitting on the correct speed limit, as he abides by every traffic rule we come into contact with. I hang back, which is difficult given that there is almost zero traffic around. After we make it out of the small town, Rob drives onto an empty highway and I know this is my chance. There are no witnesses and, if I lose them on the highway, there is no telling where he might take Dean. Now is my time to act.

  I get close to his car, speeding up when he drives faster, and then grab hold of the gun I left sitting on passenger side. Using my legs to keep the wheel straight, I lean out of the window and take aim at the back wheel closest to me. The wind is blowing fiercely at me so I need both hands just to keep it straight. I squint my eyes and blink away the gust making them water. I just squeeze my finger over the trigger when the cruiser suddenly breaks and turns on its side. I’m not able to react i
n time.

  My car barrels into the side of the car and it slides off the road. It’s the last thing I see before my car goes head on into a tree and the airbag goes off, most definitely breaking my nose at the same time that the horn blasts loudly enough to make me think my ears are bleeding. My vision blurs and I can’t feel my legs, however my hand is still numbly holding the gun. With my free hand, I fumble for the seatbelt and release it. I want out of the car, now.

  I open my door and force my legs to move, barely taking in the fact that my legs do make progress. In the next moment, though, I wonder why the ground is moving towards me at an alarming rate. I collapse head first into the dirt and cough passed my inability to breathe, managing one large gulp of air. My chest hurts almost as bad as my head.

  I look at my surroundings and notice the other car is several yards from me, turned upside-down. How the hell did that happen?

  ‘I do not need this shit right now. Whoever this fucker is, he’s going down. I’ve got the shot and I need to take it. Whatever this is, Stan owes me big time.’

  I instinctively roll back towards the car and duck into it just as a shot rings out. I dive across the driver’s seat, my hand and arm cutting on the sharp glass everywhere. Opening the passenger side door, I escape through it, holding on tightly to the gun in my hand as I take several deep breaths.

  When my vision rights itself, and breathing isn’t so painful, I slowly move towards the back of the car, crouching along the ground.

  I hear the footsteps before I see anyone, and I’ve heard enough of Rob’s thoughts to know it’s him approaching me as well as the fact that he plans to kill me. I double check to see the safety is off my gun, and then, before I overthink it or change my mind, I swing around the back of my car, standing abruptly. I see him for a split second before taking aim and shooting him dead.